The original “Matlock,” which aired from 1986 to 1995, was a reimagining of the long-running “Perry Mason” legal drama. But instead of a hardnosed attorney at the center of its case-of-the-week format, “Matlock” leveraged star Andy Griffith’s ability to play deceptively unthreatening, and then, in a climatic courtroom showdown, remarkably effective, even lacerating. With the new version of “Matlock” on CBS, it’s best to go into it understanding that it’s not a reboot so much as a show with a tenuous connection to the intellectual property of its title. But nothing gets green-lit today unless it’s IP, so here we are.
But “here we are” isn’t so bad when it’s Kathy Bates anchoring a series. She plays Madeline “Matty” Matlock, a 75-year-old lawyer who claims she would otherwise be enjoying retirement if her finances allowed it, so she lands an entry-level job at a slick corporate firm in New York. (Can CBS bear to set a procedural in any other location?) But her true motivation for working there — revealed at the end of the first episode — is more complicated. That’s the ongoing storyline, while each week there’s also a new client to defend.
If Ben Matlock came by his folksy and befuddled charm naturally, Matty’s is a put-on. Griffith’s portrayal became increasingly doddering as the seasons progressed, but Bates is starting out a good half-decade older than Griffith was when his show ended, and instead of using that as an excuse to dial up tropes about aging, the new show subverts them.
It’s the most compelling change made by creator Jennie Snyder Urman (whose credits include “Jane the Virgin,” “Charmed” and “Gilmore Girls”), with Bates playing a woman exploiting all kinds of assumptions about little old ladies that may or may not be true, whether she’s overwhelmed by technology or handing out butterscotch candies. “There’s this funny thing that happens when women age,” she says: “We become damn near invisible.” Not that she’s complaining. “It’s useful, because nobody sees us comin’.”
There’s something so exciting about an actor of Bates’ caliber choosing network TV over the more prestigious sheen offered by streaming. But this is what so many of us have been clamoring for — a return to the kind of old-school series that has the potential for a long run ahead of it.
If only the show were at Bates’ level. Her considerable talent and charisma can’t carry it alone, not when the supporting characters around her feel like their existence is just gumming up the works and taking time away from the case at hand. Low-level coworkers bickering because one never bothered to learn personal details about the other isn’t character development. It’s not even interesting.
“Matlock” is essentially juggling two competing narratives each episode: The case du jour and Matty’s other more surreptitious pursuits, which means the momentum of the former is always being interrupted by the storytelling demands of the latter. It’s too bad that most shows at the moment lack confidence in viewer attention spans to simply tell a self-contained story one week to the next. “The Good Wife” was the last legal drama that managed to build out its world, and its ongoing story arcs, with the right balance and skill. “Matlock” will need to up the quality of its writing considerably if it has those kinds of ambitions.
Matty’s boss (Skye P. Marshall) is her toughest challenge, a frenemy with a formidable hardshell exterior masking all kinds of insecurities. Marshall looks right for the role — she has an exquisite wardrobe and a perfect bobbed haircut — but the character is underwritten and Marshall is left to telegraph every thought and emotion. The fun of legal dramas is that they are full of cagey players who work the angles. “Matlock” needs more of that. Matty can’t be the only wily one.
It’s instructive to consider some of the factors that made the original work, and where the new show struggles by comparison. Ben Matlock was never particularly enthusiastic about taking on a new case. He was more interested in stopping for hot dogs, because a man’s gotta eat! But then he would demand his fee of $100,000 and eventually get his act together, maneuvering to a tension-filled face-off in court. The show also trafficked in wishful thinking, a place where district attorneys would of course dismiss the charges when shown the error of their ways. Even Matlock’s cross-examinations were legal hogwash. But it was consistently satisfying because he was like a cat with its prey, and it gave Griffith an opportunity to tell a story. He had a light touch, with a dash of vinegar in his down-home charm. “Your honor, Mr. Matlock seems to be on another one of his patented fishing expeditions,” the prosecutor would object. “And if you’ll bear with me for a moment or two, I’m gonna reel in a big one!” would come the reply. He was just there to, aw shucks, right a few wrongs. He was the show’s center of gravity, which is why it was able to eventually throw focus on a support character every so often without losing its lodestar.
The new series isn’t wedded to this structure, or centering itself on a singular or disarming personality, or even giving audiences a jazzy earworm of a theme song comparable to the original. Matty’s boss gets a lot of screen time, but she is not a theatrical litigator, so the courtroom scenes go down like soda that’s lost its fizz. The show tries to compensate with aggressive musical scoring and it’s the wrong instinct. But a few episodes in, Matty gets a shot to go toe-to-toe with a witness, and her closing argument is riveting enough that you hope the show can reorient to create more of those moments. The cases are often civil rather than criminal, representing an underdog fighting the system. That’s not a bad choice, but it tends to play out as the more earnest choice, at least compared to the wealthy boneheads Ben Matlock would take on.
An iron nightingale, Matty is a creative thinker and she understands people. That part is solid. And the writing is just reliably quippy enough to keep things bouncy. “Y’all look like my husband right before he told me he was in love with his secretary — and by secretary, I mean prostitute.” Pause. “Butterscotch?”
Hollywood’s decision-makers have become fixated on the power of nostalgia. But what happens when the rise of streaming means the more traditional, self-contained storytelling skills all those old shows relied on fall out of fashion and become a lost art? “Matlock” has so much potential, particularly thanks to Bates. No need to reinvent the wheel.
“Matlock” — 2.5 stars (out of 4)
Where to watch: Premieres 9 p.m. Sunday on CBS before moving to 9 p.m. Thursdays beginning Oct. 10
Nina Metz is a Tribune critic.
